


Creating Homes

by Drag0nBairn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adopted Children, Adoption, Alien Biology, Alien Character(s), Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Culture, Alien Technology, Alien/Human Relationships, Aliens, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Dads of Marmora (Voltron), Dubious Science, F/F, F/M, Fake Science, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, For Science!, Galaxy Garrison, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, How Do I Tag, Hurt Keith (Voltron), I'm Bad At Tagging, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Kid Fic, Kid Keith (Voltron), M/M, Magic and Science, Meet the Family, Oblivious Keith (Voltron), One Big Happy Family, Pack Family, Science, Science Bros, Science Experiments, Science Fiction, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Space Husbands, Sparring, Tags Are Fun, Tags Are Hard, Team as Family, Technology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 07:16:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16058198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drag0nBairn/pseuds/Drag0nBairn
Summary: The Blade of Marmora base is not the best place to raise a kit, except when it is. Except when, it isn't again.Keith has been happy, and healthy in his pack since he arrived, the loss of his parents arms leading to the safety of other parents' arms and a pack.But when the safety of the base location disappears with agents close to, and grabbed by the Druids, then the only place for him to hide is with the other half of his DNA. The birth place that is foreign to him.For Keith's safety, and the safety of the Blue Lion, and the place that Krolia, her mate, and Keith's infant self once called home, Kolivan must meet with the Garrison and ask a favor, and explain the 10,000 year tragedy of the stars they seek to explore.And they all learn that sometimes Home is where your people are, and you can find people, and pack, and family in many places you didn't expect





	Creating Homes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AngelofShadows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofShadows/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Love Begins at Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14019657) by [AngelofShadows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofShadows/pseuds/AngelofShadows). 



> Forgive any errors, wrote this on my phone and posted it on my phone and it is un-betaed. No beta, we fight and write like Galra.
> 
> I'll have it cleaned up soon, but I figured anyone who is also starving for dads of marmora like me might appreciate it.
> 
> Also, how does one do html font on the phone screen when my big fat fingers get in the way of where I mean to put them. Have patience please. Thace wouldn't judge me.
> 
> (Sidenote: I do not agree with Iverson's opinion of the JacketTM. It is glorious.)

It is a Tuesday at the Galaxy Garrison. Sunny, as always, a very gentle breeze, and the cafeteria has perfect bacon, and the officer lounge has coffee remaining when he enters, and it is fresh, robust coffee. 

In a good mood from these conditions, he forgets it is Tuesday, and Tuesdays are not allowed to be pmesant and uneventful at the Garrison. He should never forget it is Tuesday, or Tuesday will make him live to forget it.

And it is because of this, that Commander Iverson blames the fact there is four, very tall, very clawed aliens sitting in an office with him and other officers while the rest of the base is on 'a lockdown drill' to hide his fact. 

There is also a teenager in what must be the most hideous red jacket he has ever witnessed, listening to a very out of date ipod, sitting in the middle of this mess. Iverson likes teaching and leading youth. But he always has appreciated the fact that one must be 18 or close to it to join the Garrison. He has managed to skip dealing with the drama of teenagers on top of the rest of all other Garrison gossip and drama. 

He has been lucky. He has made assumptions and been in a good mood about that. He blames his oversight for the fact that he must now face a teenager problem with strings to species hybridity, protective clawed space-fathers, and whether or not and what should and could be done about the teenager in a hideous jacket with a comically large white collar hiding half his face, kicking a foot idilly and alternating between glaring at the wall and looking like he wants to cry.

The coffee from the lounge sits on his desk. It is no longer fresh, and is thickening unappealingly, the smell bitter and unplesant to his anxious stomache and and throbbing headache. The cursed glaring lights are also not loving his headache, and he trys to spare a moment at his computer screen for a moment more. 

He is expected to speak, but what answers could he even give? He doesnt know what questions to ask. Can theyhide him here, should they hide him? Is there anything about this galra half of him thats different? Can he eat earth food, hell do Galra age similarly? 

The kid might be 15 earth years, but that might not mean anything....hes small. He seems to have some sort of seperation anxiety, hes been clinging and even whining for hecks sake. Will he be an adult in 3 years or 30?

The blinking line in the document hes recording him winks at him, implacable. It refuses to give him answers if it knows any. He tries to steel his thoughts. His muscles feel a little weak on the mouse. His swallows. *Get it together Iverson.*

"Theres a lot of information here, and its a complicated scenario with complications that we might not even be able to understand without more knowledge. I know you are under a limited clock, and we cannot keep this meeting scenario long either." He looks Kolivan in his eyes, he doesnt falter or remove them. It is a bit hard to tell where hes looking without visible irises, but he knows that right now neither of them are faltering. 

This is possibly a minor's life at stake. This is the most likely place to hide him. And if something happens to the four men in front of them, there could be no one for him to go home to. This is not a situation to falter.

Kolivan presses his lips together tightly for a moment, but there is no telling if it means similar to what it would in a human, in an American. Theres so many differences in humans, and now with thousands of species, hes sure some culture studying and historians would lose their marbles once Earth joins proper space exploring ranks. 

Kolivan takes a breath. He starts to speak. Maybe theres more similarities then he would think.

"This is also not entirely a one way street. You know how the Empire is looking for the Voltron lions, and we have been given information that the blue lion is hudden somewhere on Earth. Until the Lion has a pilot with a matching quintessence, life energy, that Lion will remain blocked behind a particle barrier that cannot be broken. Zarkon will eventually find this planet. Hopefully not for a long time. But this also gives you a chance to build more defences and build knowledge," Kolivan grits his teeth as he spits out the next part, as if it pains him," Keith knows a lot about the Empire, their ships, their tactics. He knows a lot of things about technology in general. He learned straight from a genius who has designed base defenses that have kept our bases hidden from the Empire for centuries."

The teen, perks up slightly in the corner of Iverson's vision.

"I thought you said that when a planet has a specialized enough technology that they are interesting or seen as a possible threat to the Empires territory they attack. What benefit wpuld this actually help us, when keepig our heas low might still keep us cstegorozes ar barbic, as you stated." Admiral Sands states to his right, curt and her eyes narrowed. Her voice is like a hammer coming down. Iverson can smell the plans in her head, he can already see the emergency plans piled up on his desk tommorow. The ones fueled by late-hour determination and caffiene, ink smudged from a quick pace of her baton like thoughts.

Kolivan nods, accepting her statement.  
"The empire might see you like this now, but eventually they will search this planet for the lions. By having defences you can deploy, if not advertised and used widely, you can be prepared to launch defences once the Empire starts approaching."

"You have said that you cannot provide information about wherr the lion is, but that it has been spotted by an agent in person. I am sorry, but I cannot just accept this at that. The Garrision needs to know where it is, we have ways to moniter the area if any Empire scouts get close we can be alerted." Montgomery states firmly. 

She may be kind, but it is not something to think of her as just gentle. She guides the cadets and recruits gently, but it us with brushes of her wings. She is a pilot, a bird of prey. She can have the beak and the sharp eye of a falcon. This will be the first reminder to the Galra in front of them, she dropped the topic in wait, not entirely.

A sharp clang reverberates through the room. The boy has jumped out of his chair, and it lies on the ground behind him.  
"Thats because shes not around to show you, and didn't live long enough to give anyone coordinates. Nor did my birth dad. So sorry." He looks like he can spit fire. Iverson swears his pupils are *slitted*. 

"Keith-!"

"Im using the restroom." His rough jerk of the door and his harsh breathing makes the only sounds of his exit. Even walking quick and harsh, like a sideways downpour, his footfalls are silent. 

The office is too, a harsh, unsteady silence. The men, purple men, but still men, with a child they ar ebeing forced to abandon for his safety are radiating discomfort. Concern. One of them, is hunched over, long time grief etched onto the slope of his parent shoulders. Yes, hes the one who was the kids biological uncle. Abandoning a child they raised, however that went, that lost his parents already. To, supposudly, the Empire scouts they killed trying to defend this planet.  If true, they probably should take this kid in by debt even if you throw out the morals, and the improved safety of the kid and Earth.

"Perhaps a bit more explanation of what you do know, and what threats and activities of the Empire exist could be helpful. A bit more knowledge about this Voltron and why Zarkon wants it would be beneficial as well." Montgomery, patient and certain. Shes still eyeing this problem, waiting to strike her executed plan. 

But there is the gentleness of feathers in a nest. The boy is not the problem here. Iverson is certain he will be on this planet when that ship departs, whether with the Garrision or Montgmerys residence. 

Keith. 

Keith is going to be staying on Earth when the purple (purple, purple, purple Galra ships and peoples and suits and weapons and technology standing out aganist white, orange, white orange, white orange Garrison in orange, orange, red, red-orange desert and blue, blue sky) flys back into the stars.

A hideous red jacket, and purple eyes, and grief in the scrawl of concern and grief in the slope of childs shoulders and scowls and twisted brows stuck in the orange-white walls of the Galaxy Garrison.

**Author's Note:**

> No one told Keith where the bathrooms are, or what Earth bathrooms even look like.
> 
> Or, what anywhere else in the Garrision looks like. There is a lot of rooms that are locked right now, and hes not stupid enough to go peeking into things when the "lockdown drill", whatever that means, is hiding his fathers' existence from those who shouldnt't know yet.
> 
> He thinks its weird this is a room for men and women, though, and theres advertisements for this place, in the place hat people probably do not need them.
> 
> He thinks its cool that the Garrison uses metal circuitry.


End file.
